


Of Stories and Hidden Water

by Ailelie



Category: Secret Garden (1993)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:38:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailelie/pseuds/Ailelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One afternoon in the secret garden, Colin demands Mary tell a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Stories and Hidden Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Milady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milady/gifts).



> The story Mary tells in this is from the Jataka Tales. You can read it [here](http://www.culturalindia.net/indian-folktales/jataka-tales/the-sandy-road.html). Thank you to holli for being an awesome beta.

"Tell us a story, Mary," Colin demanded, lying back on their picnic blanket. Mary walked back and forth in the swing and considered.

"What kind of story?" she asked.

"One from India, of course. A real story."

"All of my stories are real," Mary said, glaring at him.

Dickon played a quick melody on his flute, drawing their attention. "We could play a walking game," he offered.

"No," Colin said. "It is too hot for that today. I want a story." The sun shone so clearly that day that even in the garden there was little shade.

Mary and Dickon shared a glance, and Mary looked back down at her lap. "I do know one story," she said, "about a merchant."

"Well, go on."

Mary pushed back and started to swing. "He was a traveling merchant and went all over the world."

"Like my father," Colin said. His voice was caught between bitterness and pleasure at the connection.

Mary nodded. "Yes. One day he went on a long trip across a great desert."

"A desert?" Dickon asked.

"Sand spread as wide as the moor with no water or grass anywhere in sight, and every day with the sun bigger and stronger than today. No one dared travel over the desert during the day."

"What did the merchant do?" Colin asked.

"He waited until night, of course. Then, he used the stars to help guide him through the desert."

Colin sat up on his elbows. "You can do that?"

"Aye," Dickon answered. "Stars will guide you across the moors as well."

"You will teach me," Colin said. His voice rose slightly, transforming the demand into a request.

Dickon smiled. "Aye, Master Colin."

"Good."

"My story?" Mary said, her voice edged in warning. Her swinging slowed.

"Continue." Colin waved his hand toward her and lay back on the blanket. Mary's eyes narrowed at him again, but Dickon touched her ankle as lightly as a bird and she calmed.

"He traveled all night," she said. "In the morning, he and his servants rested and slept until the sun set once more. They traveled like that for several days. Soon they were close to a town and water, which was good as they only had enough water to last one more night. On that last night of traveling, the merchant was very tired. So he told his head servant how to get to the town and then returned to sleep. But the servant followed the wrong star."

"That servant deserves to be punished," Colin said. "He put them all in danger."

"Maybe he didn't know how to read the sky," Dickon said, not looking at Colin. He'd fashioned a ball from the cloth that had held their sandwiches and was playing with one of his foxes. "If the merchant had stayed awake, he could've kept them on course." The fox nipped at the ball and bumped purposefully against Dickon's hand.

"The story is not over," Mary said, before Colin could continue the growing argument.

"What did they do?" Dickon asked, glancing up at her.

"They panicked. They were lost without water in the desert. That is—" she nodded at Colin "—very dangerous. They looked for hidden water, but the sun was too strong and everyone was very tired from having traveled all night. The merchant, though, refused to give up. While his servants rested, he looked and looked for water. Then he saw a bit of grass."

"But how was that possible?" Colin asked.

"Water can run underground," Dickon said. "Rushing all around beneath us and we'd never know it."

"Exactly," Mary said. "Like a secret." She smiled, her gaze flickering quickly around the garden. "The merchant knew that the grass could only grow if there was water underground. So he started to dig. His servants helped. And, deep beneath the grass, they hit stone. And from beneath the stone they could hear water. The merchant told his servants, 'We cannot give up. If we stop, we will die.' They cracked the stone and found the water. Everyone drank until their stomachs bulged. Then they traveled all night until they reached the town outside the desert. The merchant sold everything he'd brought with him and returned home with more gold than he'd hoped. The end."

"Is that a true story?" Colin asked.

Mary shrugged. "Maybe. My Aya told it to me. She said it meant that we cannot ever give up. If the merchant had given up just because he was hot and tired, he would have never found the hidden water and they would have all died in the desert." She pushed back, and then stretched her legs forward. Wind rippled up her legs and skirt.

"All right," Colin said, sitting up. "Dickon, I want to practice walking again."

Dickon slipped his makeshift ball into their lunch basket and stood up. He held a hand down to Colin. "Very well. Up you get, Master Colin." He pulled Colin to his feet and held Colin's shoulders while the boy found his balance.

Mary hopped off the swing and walked a few paces away from the boys. "Come to me, Colin," she said, grinning. "You can do it."

He returned her grin. "Of course I can." He walked toward her awkwardly, but more sure than he'd been even just days before. Dickon stepped backward, stretching the distance between he and Mary. Colin turned and walked back to Dickon's arms. Mary clapped and ran further down the path.

"Here, Colin!" They continued practicing, moving further and further apart, until the western wall stretched out a long shadow across the garden. Colin's breathing was heavy, but his face was bright with satisfaction as he settled back into his chair.

"You need to scowl," Mary said, as they drew closer to the house. "You'll make Medlock suspicious if you smile like that." Colin furrowed his brow and pinched his lips in exaggerated agitation. Dickon chuckled and soon Colin was again smiling. "Think of something vexing," Mary advised.

Colin tilted his head, then lowered it, his smile wilting. "My father."

"Medlock says he won't be back until winter."

"That's too far away. She won't let me write him."

"You can't give up, Master Colin," Dickon said. "Remember Mary's story."

"You're right." He leaned back, looking again like a Rajah. "I shall devise a plan. My father _will_ return home before the summer ends."

Mary and Dickon glanced at one another. Dickon reached down and squeezed Colin's shoulder. "That's right."

"We'll think of something," Mary said. She did not say more, however, as they had reached the house and Miss Medlock was waiting for them on the steps, her smile strained and shoulders tense.

"Same time tomorrow," Colin said, quietly. Dickon patted his shoulder, agreeing, and then stepped back.

"Good day," he said. Miss Medlock nodded stiffly at him and he walked away.

"What did you children do today?" Miss Medlock asked.

Mary put on her most bored and contrary expression. "We were in the gardens," Colin said. "We do have a great many of them."

"In the gardens. I see. Inside now, children. John?" An older man appeared in the doorway behind Miss Medlock. "Help me please."

Mary silently returned to her room. She slipped beneath her bed and hid her key against the mattress. Staring up at the key, she turned her mind toward ways of bringing Colin's father home.

 


End file.
